A Lotus Grows in Brooklyn

One Chinese poem for tonight
June 9, 2009, 10:08 pm
Filed under: Poetry | Tags: , ,

To Magistrate Chang

Tree and MoonLate, I love but quietness:

Things of this world are no more of my concern.

Looking back, I’ve known no better plan

than this: returning to the grove.

Pine breezes loosen my robe.

Mountain moonbeams play my lute.

What, you ask, is final truth?

The fisherman’s song strikes deep into the bank.

~ Wang Wei (701-761), one of the greatest Buddhist poets

translated by J.P. Seaton

(Photo by by CatDancing on Flickr, used under Creative Commons license.)


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